


Festival of Renewals

by AppleSoda



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bittersweet, Character Study, Dimidue Week (Fire Emblem), Fluff and Humor, Holidays, M/M, School Festivals, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSoda/pseuds/AppleSoda
Summary: At a festival dedicated to a religious figure known for sacrifice, Dimitri and Dedue confront what sacrifice is worth to one another.





	Festival of Renewals

“Are you planning on anything for the day off next week?”asked Dedue.Small talk never came easily to him. Given the chance, he liked to keep to himself whenever he wasn’t needed by Dimitri or another classmate. But a learning environment had pressured him to adapt, both in fighting and in the days that passed in the school. In time, he had started to look towards the opportunities with Flayn, the newest member of their class, as an opportunity to practice making conversations.

“It’s my birthday!” Flayn answered brightly. “Oh, but St. Cethleann Day is quite an important day, Chef!She held up a cutting board full of freshly sliced tomatoes for Dedue to check, always. Upon receiving an approving nod, she continued, sliding the prepared slices into a nearby bowl. “It’s certainly got importance to the church, but I love the story behind it the most. What should we prepare next?”

“Eggplants. They’ll have to be cooked first,” Dedue answered. “Please, go on.” In contrast to other students who carried expectations, disdain, or both, it was refreshing to listen to Flayn. The energetic girl always seemed to run about like she had to learn something new or get to know someone else.

“I’m thinking that I should ask brother if we can do something fun for the holiday,” Flayn gently pressed a spatula into a slowly grilling eggplant. “Like a festival in the marketplace, with stands set up by the students. Wouldn’t that be fun? Why, I am sure the Saint herself might feel rejuvinated at such a sight!” Each new imagining seemed to infuse the petite girl with even more optimism and energy.

“Is that right?” Dedue had never been drawn to the crowded festivals in Fhirdiad, and Faerghus’ citizens, likewise, did not appreciate the sight of a youth of Duscur walking about the streets, and following their prince, no less. But the Monastery wasn’t Faerghus— well, not entirely, and people like Flayn seemed to live out their days without such worries. It was tempting, thought Dedue, to see just what that was like for even a little while.

“Would it please you to hold a festival?” He measured out crushed herbs to add further in the cooking process.

“It would,” Flayn jabbed at the eggplant with her spatula to punctuate her excitement, then flipped the medallion over. She smiled at the sight of the browning vegetable, and looked over the selection of sauces before them.

“In fact, this has given me much inspiration for a suggestion for the Academy…”

——

Even students that weren’t at the heart of the social scene of Garreg Mach knew that Seteth had a soft spot for Flayn’s happiness, and in the coming weeks, notices began to appear in the halls of the academy that there would be a small, reasonably contained (in his words) festival to be held on the grounds of the marketplace.

“Ah, I love the story of St. Cethleann,” Mercedes beamed, as she tacked up a flyer and looked upon it. They were gathered around the classroom right after the conclusion of homeroom, with a few moments to plan just what the Blue Lion House would prepare for the festival. She cast her eyes down, recalling the scriptures she prayed to quietly but intently. Dedue often saw her stroll towards the chapel to make service hours with enough time to spare. 

“Out of the four saints, her tale speaks to me the most. But I can’t help but feel sad about how it ended. Out on the battlefield, healing one ally after another until she collapsed…”

“She was wrong to do so,” Dedue answered almost instinctively.

“She was right to do so,” cut in Dimitri, at precisely the same time, his brow furrowed. At the answers, they looked at one another.The silence of their replies hung over the entire class. Mercedes snapped out of her story and looked on them with curiosity.

“Saint Cethleann’s example as a paragon of sacrifice is taught to knights across Faerghus,” Dimitri frowned. “Dedue, do you take issue with her conduct?”

“I’ve forgotten myself, Your Highness—”

“No, I wish to hear your thoughts. Please,” Dimitri turned towards him curiously, and with him, their classmates’ attention shifted.

“Very well. I see no contradictions between her actions and her duties,” Dedue shook his head. “But there is a recklessness in it that does not sit well with me.” His gaze became guarded, and the fact that all eyes were on him and the prince of the Holy Kingdom unnerved him. Already, he had lived a life on thin ice when it came to the students that hailed from Faerghus. Yet, it was difficult to lie to them, or to Dimitri, when they deserved the truth.As testy as his relationships were with the rest of them, they deserved at least that much.

“Wow,” Sylvain spoke up at last, breaking the silence. “Who knew it’d be a festival on a day off that splits the two of you apart like that?”

“The boar would become all sentimental about someone that worked herself to death,” muttered Felix, with a scoff. “What a waste of time.” He grabbed his books, scowling. “Mercedes, tell me what I need to do for the stall and I’ll get it done.”

The outburst cut the tension in the room slightly, and in silence, Dedue followed the prince out from the classroom. But each step he took felt leaden, and the hours that passed for the rest of the day was encumbured by the story— simple, on the surface, but a one that posed a question that was far more difficult than he’d guessed.

When they departed to their next destination, Dimitri had widened the distance between them, his strides across the courtyard as sure as ever. Just as always, he didn’t look back.

——

The marketplace of the town outside Gareg Mach had been polished and cleaned until its paving stones itself gleamed. Bright green banners bearing the crest of Cethleann had been hung across the shops and stalls, flapping in the wind alongside the crest of Saint Seiros. Alongside the usual calvalcade of vendors were booths staffed by students, and nobles and commoners alike took part in selling different wares.

“Ashe, will we need additional servings of tea?” asked Dimitri. The two of them were to take the shift selling tea and Mercedes’ miniature peach pies, which she had stayed up almost all night baking. The girl, thankfully, was napping in her room at the request of the other Blue Lions.

“No, I think we’ll be all set for the rest of the afternoon, Your Highness.” piped up the other boy. “Felix and Sylvain will take our spots.” Ashe, for his part, had taken to playing the role of a food vendor naturally, having grown up serving tables and cleaning dishes in a restuarant. The easygoing nature of the boy drew people to their stall in ways that Dimitri surmised would be impossible if he were alone.

Dimitri glanced past Ashe into the crowds of the market. In the back of the crowd, as sure and certain as ever, stood Dedue, his back to a shop and watching over him. There were a few hours of the festival left, and he had wanted the time freed up. The passing hours had been pleasant, as interactions with students and townsfolk often were. But something about the day made him impatient to move on.

At last, Felix emerged from the halls of the school, looking like he’d rather get rapped on the back of his hands with a training sword than participate. Ambling after him was Sylvain, sleepy-eyed but already leering at the female students milling about the market square. Relived, he nodded to Ashe and departed their stall, making a beeline outwards.

“Dedue,” he asked, “would you walk with me through the festival?”

“Of course,” was the answer. “I am glad to accompany you.”

“Hmm, the lion loaf looks appetizing,” commented Dimitri, pointing to one of the cakes laid out on a nearby brightly decorated table. Marianne, a shy girl that seemed downcast no matter what day it was, slinked away. Shrugging, he continued to peruse the animal-shaped pastries.

“Oh, no, no no.” A snide voice cut in. “ That is definitely _not_ a lion,” insisted Claude, brows furrowed.

“This cake, you see, depicts a very rare full-maned deer.” He pointed towards two hastily stuck-on dough antlers for emphasis.“We have humpback deer—” The Golden Deer Leader gestured to a camel with identical haphazardly attached dough antlers, “and long-necked deer loaves for sharing. So,” he propped his elbows on the table and flashed a charming smile towards Dimitri, then Dedue. “Anything I can get for you, gentlemen?”

Immediately after they had bought the ‘full-maned deer’ loaf, Dimitri pried off the antlers as soon as they were out of sight. “Ridiculous,” he said under his breath, holding up what was quite obviously a small cake shaped like a lion.

“It is admirable that he is proud of his house. As are you,” Dedue reached over and took one of the pieces, sampling it thoughtfully. “It’s adequate,” was the judgment that had passed. It was always difficult to really impress Dedue when it came to gardening or cooking.

He had kept his distance from Dedue since the day in the classroom, knowing that the question about the saint loomed over everything where the festival was concerned. But he was no coward when it came to fights. If he had owed anything to Dedue, it was honesty and an opportunity to listen to him.

The gardens of the school at dusk were nearly empty, with most students having wandered out into the market or burrowed back into their dorms, like the purple-haired Black Eagles girl that had darted back so fast that she was a blur.

“What did you mean by calling Saint Cethleann reckless?” asked Dimitri. He had suspected that Dedue’s words weren’t simply meant for the mythical saint, but held a conviction that he carried with him every day. It unnerved him to pry into just what Dedue had meant, and yet, he was compelled to know.

“Sacrifices of such scale come at a cost,” Dedue answered “Noble as it was, her loved ones must have been pained once they knew what she had to do. I made such a pledge, and I know that such a promise is not an easy one.”

“But truly, she must have known that, and did what she could anyways,” Dimitri’s voice was tense. “Would you be so disappointed at someone who followed their convictions the way she did?”

“If I cared for them, then I could not cease worrying about them. To do so is human,” Dedue turned away, as if he wished to get away and hold whatever emotions he carried to himself. And yet, he remained fixed on the spot.

He had known the reminder of his obligations would trouble Dimitri, as would any mention of what lay ahead. Faerghus was not a kingdom likely to be free of sacrifice and duties that would tax the mind and heart of its future king. Even after a sunny afternoon spent in a market square bedecked in the bright colors and banners, that future could not be so easily hidden away.

“I admired her because she did everything she could until no more to keep those she loved from death,” Dimitri’s voice was quiet. “She conquered that fear in a way that I could not. She was no failure.” He crumpled the end of the cake wrapping in his hand in frustration, knowing that even the most peaceful festival could not drown out the oncoming drumbeats of war, strife and difficult choices. It loomed overhim, just as it surely loomed over the saints in the centuries where they walked Fodlan.

“You are no failure,” Dedue answered gently as they sat down on a stone bench in the empty garden. “Whatever it means, I will never consider you a failure.”

“What am I, then?”

When Dedue looked back at him, gone from his gaze was the guardedness in the classroom, or the detachedness he wore like an overcoat. In the garden, he wasn’t a classmate, or a vassal, but someone to cherish.

“You are the future. And …I promise you that no matter what may happen, I will do whatever it takes to not leave your side,” was his answer.

“I will have to try my best to live up to that future,” Tired from the day’s work, he nestled closer to Dedue, glad to close whatever distance that the question of the Saint had introduced. It was calming, knowing that they had one another, no matter what happened.

“Would you like another bite of full-maned deer cake?” Dimitri asked sometime later, reaching up with his purchase from the festival.

“Claude used too much sugar on this,” Dedue said. “But I will try a little more.” He reached over and took another bite. As stone-faced as he usually was, Dimitri surmised that this would be the closest that Dedue would come to humoring him. As always, there was more to find out each day they passed together.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess which person associated with claude made a bit of a cameo in this??? 
> 
> I had way too much fun making up this holiday and overthinking the lore for this


End file.
